Turns out it was simply corroded wires, and the power was restored by morning, which, given my expectations, was a treat.

If there is one thing that I love about Vieques more than anything else, it’s that it makes me appreciate the small things in life. The simple necessities. It makes me grateful for the things that we take so much for granted at home. Running water. Locking doors. Privacy. Electricity. After camping for ten days, those things seem like a luxury, and every day I’m grateful for them.

And without all of the trappings of home –TV, internet, movie theaters, scads and scads of retail outlets vying for every last dime in your wallet– I find I appreciate the natural world around me more here than I do at home. Not that I don’t appreciate nature at home, but without anything else to do, there is really no choice here most days but to go to the beach, take pictures, go for a hike, or kayak, or paddleboard, or hop aboard a friend’s boat. On Vieques, there’s plenty of time to do all those things we keep telling ourselves we don’t have time for at home. The truth is, we have time for them all at home, but we fill up that time with unnecessary activities, most of which involve earning or spending money. It’s refreshing not to have the option of filling up my schedule with bullshit. I’ve been to the beach every day this week, and I DO have a job. My rent is $200 a month, and although the place is not a palace, it’s enough. It’s all I really need.

The other huge benefit to living without all the unnecessary extras we call “normal” at home is that I have plenty of time to think, to reflect, to write, to read, and to daydream. I think we Americans have trained ourselves to think these are the unnecessary extras, when the truth is quite the opposite. If we spend all of our time working in order to pay for all the things that we really don’t NEED, we don’t have time to live. To be. To relax. To think. To be happy, and REALIZE that we are happy. Our priorities are all messed up.

In the perpetual quest for material wealth that is contemporary American society, we have lost sight of what is really important: the quest for happiness. We all know, on a surface level, that money can’t buy happiness. But then why do we keep trying to fill whatever empty place exists in us with material things? Why do we get ourselves into crippling debt buying toys and clothes and fancy home furnishings and zippy cars? Wouldn’t being debt-free be more satisfying than having all those things at such a steep price? Because the price is not just the debt, and the stress of the debt, but the TIME spent trying to pay off the debts; time that we should be spending with our friends and loved ones, enjoying nature, making art, cooking and eating, listening to music, relaxing, and doing the things that will ACTUALLY make us happy.

Time is the most valuable resource we have, and we waste far too much of it. We waste it on working to pay for things we don’t actually need. We waste it on anger, stress, resentment and guilt. We waste it on pointless activities like video games, television and facebook. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not simply proselytizing–I’m just as guilty as anyone else. But I’m trying to shift the balance of how I spend my time and money, because as I’ve learned here on Vieques, I’m a hell of a lot happier when I’ve got less money, less trappings and all the time I want to sit in the hammock and read my book. Or to sit here, at half past noon on a Wednesday, and write to you.

With no power, the stars above Esperanza are epic. Orion’s belt is kit up like a Christmas tree. The darkness is complete, and stunning. The only sounds are tree frogs, distant dogs and the hum of several generators.

We are camping again, this time in a cement tent with running water and beds. I’m ok with it.

I love this island, with all its quirks and hiccups. I love these people, misfits all of them. I love my life.

2) No one is forbidding you to say “Merry Christmas,” unless you are a state employee or teacher in an institution or organization that has respectfully adopted “Happy Holidays” in order to acknowledge that the winter holiday season also includes holy days for several faiths other than Christianity. In that case, you can still say Merry Christmas until you’re blue in the face when you’re not at work.

3) You, and your religion, are NOT being persecuted. You are not forbidden from practicing your religion, or observing your chosen holy day. You are not going to be arrested for saying Merry Christmas, or having a Christmas tree in your house. A suggestion that you may want to acknowledge and respect other faiths by offering a polite and inclusive “Happy Holidays” to people whose faiths you are uncertain of, is by NO MEANS persecution.

Persecution is when people are rounded up and systematically executed for their beliefs (i.e. the Holocaust). It’s when people are forbidden to don their articles of faith in public institutions (i.e. muslim women and girls being forbidden to “cover” with their traditional headscarves in school or at work). It’s being forced to say the prayers of or claim allegiance to another faith (i.e. the Crusades, in which thousands or possibly millions were killed for not being Christian or converting to Christianity). It’s being made to celebrate the religious holiday of a faith not your own (i.e. American school children who were not Christian being taught about and celebrating Christmas–and only Christmas–until the last ten or twenty years).

4. “Happy Holidays” is not offensive. To ANYONE. That’s the whole damn point. Even if you say Happy Holidays to an Atheist who celebrates no holidays at all, they’re going to be grateful for the well-wishes and probably also for the respect shown by not assuming their Christianity by saying Merry Christmas (or assuming their Judaism by saying Happy Hanukkah, etc.). The only people who are offended by being told Happy Holidays are the ones who have made a conscious choice to be offended by it, either out of veiled bigotry or inflexibility to societal change (“in my day, we said Merry Christmas”).

5) The “War on Christmas” was created by Fox News and other conservative media outlets. They did not do this because they actually care about Christmas. They did it because they care about MONEY, and fabricating a passionate religious debate over a complete non-issue will put millions of ducats in their bank accounts. The longer and more successfully they can manipulate people into getting angry and indignant about something that’s not actually a big problem (unless you’re a bigot, in which case showing respect to people of other faiths is downright painful to you), the more money they will make. The additional bonus of the War on Christmas whine-fest is that it’s completely distracting the attention of millions of Americans from the things they should actually be worried about, like the systematic elimination of our Civil Rights, the complete corporate control of our government and economy, the alarming depletion of the natural resources our species depends on, and the unforgivable destruction of our planet.

6) I find no small amount of irony in the fact that many of the same people who are complaining that they’re not allowed to be publicly Christian enough, are the same people who are trampling each other in department stores around the country in order to get the most coveted (and often expensive) Christmas gift items. Explain to me how that is Christian behavior? Isn’t Christianity supposed to be about selflessness, humility, and Love thy neighbor, etc.?

Don’t whine to me about not being allowed to celebrate Christmas when you’re actually celebrating American Express and Macy’s. Seriously.

I remember the stories about Christmas that I was told when I was a kid, and most of them were about giving to those less fortunate. The characters in the stories were POOR. And the presents they got were things like clothes, and food, and blankets. Occasionally, they got a handmade toy. Those stories weren’t about iPods and Nintendo systems and Tickle Me Elmo dolls. And they certainly weren’t about greedy, materialistic people fighting each other about completely unnecessary things to add to their already unconscionable material excess.

On that note, I would like to wish my few readers a happy winter holiday season, no matter which holidays you choose to–or not to– celebrate. I, personally, will be celebrating Christmas although I am essentially an atheist. I will be giving gifts that I have handmade, had already, or traded with other artists to obtain. My family will be eating a pot luck Christmas dinner, with fresh venison I got in trade for the main course, and we will celebrate Christmas–I hope– with the television off. We will probably not be doing too much praying or Praise Jesus-ing, because the celebration of Christmas is more about family than it is about religion for us.

I hope that wherever you are, and whatever holiday you’re celebrating, that you’re warm and healthy and happy this holiday season.

Much love,
S.

Does there ever come a point in life where we don’t periodically desire something completely different than what we’ve previously chosen? Or is that just me? I envy people who just know what they want, and pursue it, and are satisfied when they get it. I can’t make up my damn mind. I want everything, and nothing. It’s really hard to pursue a dream or goal when that dream or goal keeps morphing into something else, often totally unrelated. I want everything… and nothing.

I guess what I really want is to be able to teleport. That would solve most of my problems quite efficiently, I think. That’s the only way I can think of that I could have it all and not have to choose. I hate choosing between multiple things that I like…

Take, for example, today.

Yesterday, I was a ridiculous mess. I’m gonna blame mercury, because there ain’t no logical way to explain it, but when my niece came home at 9:00, she found me in a ball on the couch, crying. Yes, I’d been drinking. But wow, was I upset over nothing. That sadness (but not the tears) stayed with me until I went to sleep…

…but it was mostly gone by the time I woke up (at 7 a.m.!!) this morning.

My niece took the day off from work because she wasn’t feeling well, and she needed to get some errands done. When she told me her errands included the bookstore and the library, I asked if I could join her.

I ended up coming home with two brand new books, four free paperbacks, 9 videos borrowed from the library, and 7 new $1 CDs I’ve never heard, from Aboveground records. That’s plenty of distraction to tear me away from my other distractions, which have been bothersome lately.

Getting lost in a fluff book, or a movie with no cinematic merit whatsoever? Listening to music (that may or may not suck) for the first time? Way healthier than dwelling on real or imagined hurts that you have absolutely no power to change.

(patting self on back)

So yeah, today was a good day.

Yesterday morning I had another of a series of bizarre dreams in which I’m cooped up in a small space with a bunch of crazy and annoying people I don’t know. I’m attributing these dreams to:
a) The fact that I’ve been hanging out with a guy that I really like, but cannot figure out… and
b) The fact that it’s August. Slow walkers, hordes of prosti-tots, loud Jersey women, pretentious dicks with black AmEx cards and the world’s worst drivers have all convened on Martha’s Vineyard for a free-for-all. Every local I know is either practicing “zen parking,” seething with road (and sidewalk) rage, or hiding in the woods with their cell phone off.

Yesterday was also the day that I woke up in a frenzy of anxious productivity and started slaying the Unpleasant List like a champ. I got all of my errands and unpleasant phone calls done, deep-cleaned the bar like a crazed maniac (think Monica from Friends) without being asked to, and stayed up until 4:30 a.m. brainstorming on how to fix the Biggest Problem In My Life.

A friend who owed me money that I wasn’t chasing came through with the best timing in the world and paid me in full at a moment when I was grasping at every possible source of cash (see: Biggest Problem. Note: Biggest Problem needs lots of money I don’t have to be thrown at it).

Two of my best girlfriends have had MAJOR SHIT happen in the past couple of days, and I’m not talking good shit. My niece, who I love more than anything in the world, is spinning around frantically in her own particular orbit, trying to figure out what to do with her life, and there have been facebook posts that indicate that Mercury has SNAFUed her SNAFU even more. My best guy friend, who’s 44, is apparently dating a 21-year-old with awful tattoos–and he’s a tattoo officionado. There’s a stranger on my couch, and the cat is completely out of his mind. I can’t stop sneezing, but I don’t feel sick. It’s August, and I’m tempted to put socks on because my toes are cold.

And the boy, as usual, texted just when I’d given up on hearing from him and shifted into “another one bites the dust” mode. Go figure.

Mercury, you’re winning. I don’t know which way is up, and I hate you for it… but I’m thankful for the good surprises. I’m not accustomed to many of those.

Take it easy on me this weekend, though. I need it to be a good one.

For starters, my second job, the fine dining “insurance job,” is in a restaurant where the actual bar has about four square feet of working space, no running water at the outside bar, and cement floors. For a dropsy, loud, occasionally profane person such as myself– and also for anyone accustomed to a loud, spacious, fast-paced bar with no “decorum” standards–this is an awkward combination. I like the money and the staff, but I feel like I don’t belong, and it’s an uphill battle to convince myself to go every shift.

Also, as usual, my personal life is a clusterfuck of bad timing, awkwardness and self-doubt, which I think is exacerbated by the fact that the peaceful self-acceptance and motivation that I found in Vieques ran away with a quickness as soon as the stresses of hometown life, family and work flooded back into my life.

I’ve had a couple of really self-centered down days this week– days when I knew I was wallowing in pointless and imagined hurts, and making it everyone else’s problem. A friend called me out on that tonight, and I’m grateful for it.

I don’t feel any less like an awkward robot… But she brought my self-awareness back. It had been most certainly on vacation, while self-doubt and self-pity were working overtime.

So I guess I’ll end with a Jack White lyric that just sort of sums it up: “I just don’t know what to do with myself…”

And that’s okay, too.

But there it is. How 21st century of me: I’m writing my blog from my phone.

I’m back. And for the next year-plus at least, you’re stuck with me. Me, and my niece’s Manx cat, who is such a completely insane animal that you’re sure to read about him frequently. He’s half-rabbit and 100% out of his mind.

His name is Osho. He sees ghosts.

Osho can have more fun chasing a plastic portion cup across the floor than Charlie Sheen could have in the biggest little whorehouse in Vegas. And, like Charlie, he leaves a disproportionate trail of destruction in his wake. Anything that isn’t glued down is in imminent peril.

3 a.m. most nights, Osho and I are the only ones awake in the neighborhood. I talk to him more than I ought to. I also find myself hysterically laughing… alone. I’m convinced that the cat is the reincarnation of someone who did a LOT of drugs: Timothy Leary, maybe, or Hunter Thompson. I’d say Keith Richards, but Keith–miraculously and yet unsurprisingly–is still alive.

Perhaps this cat’s antics will entice me to really learn how to use the “videocamera” feature on my fancy phone. YouTube, here we come.

Aside from the cat, I’ve felt compelled recently to write about music, and art, and food. Also, I started writing a book while I was in Puerto Rico this spring– I might share some of that, too. Then again, I might not.

Either way, I’ve found a way to continue sharing my narcissistic wee-hours blather with the interwebs. So I’ll write something legitimate soon. I hope.

Happy Summer,
SG

(I know, I just used that hyphenated word in a sentence. I feel like a betrayer of language.)

But seriously, it’s been an interesting trip. Check it out: www.twitter.com/Sa1tgirl

If you’re not down with experiencing the journey backwards, scroll down to the post that says “The Crime Van has just entered the land of the Giant Jesus Billboard,” and read upwards. I think it’s several pages back.

It’s shit like this that makes it worth having an iPhone. It’s a lot easier to keep up than travel journaling!